Into The Darkness
by Cell-Mate666
Summary: AU set in the middle of season 6 finale. Castiel finds himself and Dean in the center of a legend worse than anything they've encountered before. Even Hell itself.
1. Fatal Choices

DISCLAIMER! I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL BUT I DO OWN OBLIVION AND ALTARA AS THEY ARE REPRESENTED HERE!

If I did own supernatural, we'd all be happier about season 6. ^o^

!

Raphael looked at Castiel uneasily, the female hosts eyes laden with fear and something else Castiel couldn't name. The former King of Crossroads looked between the two powers and said something the nuclear angel couldn't quite hear with his focus so intent on Raphael. Stark blue eyes glinted with something feral and insane before forcing the pressure inside the archangel to rise, ending in the inevitable explosion. He had finally done it…something niggled at the back of the former angels mind. It sounded important but the power clouded his mind, making it unintelligible. He looked around the room for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He was surprised that Dean hadn't come, given the weeks prior argument. In that moment, he figured out what bothered him so. Dean wasn't there. Neither was Sam (he figured the man would have at least been able to get up and function by now, given how minds and memories work)…Bobby, too, was absent. The silence unbearable in the wake of what he had hoped would involve begging, pleading, and kneeling.

The tickle at the back of Castiels mind turned into an agonizing burn in the space of a mere second. He could clearly feel something wrong. The haze lifted from his mind as the possibilities of what it could be sprung forth. As his heart dropped into his stomach, the former angel was simply gone.

Wings fluttered almost imperceptibly as Castiel arrived at the old house at Singer Auto. Everything was still and silent, crushingly so to one who had heard what it should sound like. Dean and Sam arguing over something as Bobby told the 'idjits' to shut up and get some work done to find Castiel. The tan trench coat waved in a sudden breeze bringing something that, unusually so, sent a shiver up the spine of his vessel.

Dress shoes made loud thumps up the few wooden stairs to the door, which now only hung by a single hinge that barely clung to the frame. The door had been splintered inward and the smell of something Wrong assaulted his senses as he stepped inside. To the left lay where Bobby should have been reading or researching. Instead, the desk was shredded underneath where papers usually lay in masses. The wheelchair behind it was ripped in two and on separate sides of the room, drawing attention to the blood. It covered the books on the shelf behind the desk, drawing Castiels eyes to the heap of flesh that had once been the elder hunter. Bobby's body was mutilated beyond recognition and globs of what appeared to be shadows dotted the floor in places that were marred by salt. The fight couldn't have lasted long. Unfortunately for Bobby, it hadn't ended well for him. The shiver on Castiels spine intensified until he had to lean on the desk, his hands a stark contrast against the deep gouges in the antique wood.

Blue eyes, laden with guilt for some reason, were forced away from the study as Castiel moved into the hall toward the stairs. The first things he saw were Sam's shoes. The second was Sam. The tall man was sprawled on the stairs at the halfway point. One arm slung almost casually over the side of the stairs beneath the banister. Blood covered the ceiling and walls in a fine spray that had also clung tightly to the button up shirt he was wearing. His throat was gone. The spinal column visible as a white contrast to the darkening red as hazel eyes stared unseeingly skyward. The banister and stairs were coated in a stocky black residue that set Castiels teeth on edge all over again as he passed the second corpse to reach the second floor.

For just a moment, it seemed as though the world came to a standstill as his vessels heart skipped what must have been a million beats. Darkness, shining and fluid, covered everything in a sticky shroud slightly reminiscent of a spider's enormous web. Just at the edge of the former angels vision, dozens of disembodied eyes stared out from where they were embedded in the masses as though it were watching Castiels every movement. All the lights were blown, casting the upper hallways into a dense murky blackness broken only by the reappearing moonlight as the eclipse ended. The doors to the bathroom and bedroom had simply been ripped open, causing the former to splinter into millions of tiny shards over the floor while the latter simply clung to its last. The bathroom was darkened, empty, and packed full of the otherworldly horror that clung in smaller tendrils to the bedroom doorframe.

Castiel sucked in a breath as he approached the bedroom door, his borrowed heart beating a staccato rhythm unmatchable by any force he knew of, and brushed his hand against it. The door crumbled into dust, coating his coat sleeve and hand in a mess of oak leavings that went unnoticed as the obstacle was removed from blocking his view of the true horror.

Dean's body was the worst to Castiel because he was the reason for the former angels actions. At least, that's what Castiel had told himself. That it was all for Dean and Sam and Bobby…now, in this house; no, this tomb, laid their remains. All of them shredded and defiled and mutilated in ways Castiel would have rather not seen. Dean's green eyes were half lidded in his pale bloodless face. The wound ran the length of his body from his pelvis to his neck, exposing all that was inside to the world. At least it would have if it had all still been inside. Castiel choked back a broken sound at the sight of his friend's heart and innards laid out on display upon his lap. The tendrils, shadowy as ever in the full moon light, held his head to the wall like a vine. Others wrapped around and into Dean through his legs and other bits of exposed flesh. His shirt was gone, shredded perhaps, and his jeans were missing below one leg where a particularly large vein of shadow pierced his skin and ran underneath.

"You did this, you know."

The quiet voice echoed eerily through the room and pierced Castiels brain. The trench coat fluttered and his wings bristled as he turned to see what appeared to be very good looking man. His state of dress was immaculate, old fashioned brocade adorning vest and long coat, both of which were fastened neatly above a stark white shirt made of what must have been silk. He seemed to absorb the light in the room, darkening it further in its absence.

"Who are you? And what has brought you here?"

Castiels gravelly voice didn't echo as the strangers had. Instead, it seemed muted somehow, and weak. The figure laughed and shook his head.

"You brought me here, you let me out. Don't you know who I am?" Castiel remained silent as he waited for the man's British sounding voice to continue. "I am Oblivion. God's equal and opposite. His brother, if you will. And I've been trapped in Purgatory for far too long. That bitch Eve tried her damnest to keep me contained. Thank you for killing her by the way. And Lucifer…never did get a chance to thank good old Mikey for removing that thorn. You know he was booted for a second reason right? Oh of course you don't. See…Lucy knew all about me. He knew of other winged bastards who wanted me freed and tried to stop them. And I'm certainly not talking about feathered types; Nephilim, my friend, the Fallen Ones. Knowing too much can get you removed too you know."

The stranger paused for a moment as if considering what next to say. Castiel remained patient, images of blood and pain haunting his heart.

"When you opened Purgatory, I was let out. It didn't take me long to find this place. These are precious to you right?" The voice grew tarnished with a sneer as Oblivion gestured around the house.

"You realize that this one in particular screamed for you with his last? I guess he was hoping you were listening. I knew you weren't though. But, I'll cut you a deal. Some slack even. Since you let me out, I'll bring them all back to life. As if it never happened. I'll even erase their memories of your so-called betrayal. Make them all think you gave up on purgatory at Dean's behest. "

Castiel blinked. Dean, Sam, Bobby…alive and breathing and arguing again. No more blood spattered walls and horrifically mutilated bodies. Instead of begging for it like he wanted to, Castiel asked, "What do you want?"

Oblivions eyes sparked to life with something terrifyingly cold and predatory. "How about those souls you took from my prison?"

Castiel's body stiffened. The souls of purgatory…that much power could help this being destroy the world and heaven and hell with it. But…he looked at Dean, out past the man where Sam, and even further, Bobby lay. He looked to them…and nodded. The last thing Castiel remembered was agonizing pain, a blinding flash of light and Dean standing over him, whole and healthy and concerned calling his name repeatedly.


	2. Legends & Explanations

Castiels eyes fluttered open and the archangel stiffened slightly at the sight of three formerly dead faces staring at him in concern. He bent forward as his mind shrieked at being assaulted with the memories from before. As it all came back to him, he realized what he had truly done and the guilt was almost instantaneous.

"Dude, you look like someone just tore a wing off! What's going on Cas?" The familiar nickname was so welcomed to Castiels ears he had to fight the urge to smile. It wasn't hard considering he would have to tell the brothers and Bobby everything that had happened. That the memories they had were false and there was now a…Castiel didn't even have words to describe this new threat. Instead, all he could force out through his mouth was the name.

"Oblivion."

The Winchesters reaction couldn't have been more comical with Dean and Sam's puzzled faces and Bobby's thoughtful yet suspicious expression. It was the elder hunter who spoke first.

"Whatcha mean by 'Oblivion' Castiel?" The angel could feel his wings twitch in anxiety. He could erase the memory of the name from their minds…never could he do so on the level that Oblivion had shown. It was, as Dean would so aptly put it, a 'whole new ball game'. But, to erase their memory of that simple thing would be another of what had gotten them all on the previous path to begin with…a lie. He wasn't about to do it again.

"Your memories are false." The look on Dean's face was pricelessly blank as the new information failed to register. "They were planted there by a being called Oblivion who says that he is my Father's equal as well as his formerly imprisoned brother. He said he had been trapped in purgatory and kept by Eve, the Mother of All. In truth, Dean…I didn't heed your request to leave purgatory alone…I went forth and did it anyway. And as I opened purgatory and absorbed the souls there to gain power, it corrupted my mind. We hadn't spoken since our fight last week and the power drove my mind into the edges of insanity. I killed Raphael as I had set out to do. But I failed to see that the door didn't just let me in to get the souls…it let something out as well. I didn't notice until I came here to find you…all of you...dead. The being came to me and said he would resurrect all of you and exchange your memories…provided I gave him the souls I retrieved from purgatory."

"You've got to be kidding me…" Bobby rough voice tore through the tension that had settled in the room. The brothers jumped at the sudden speech from the elder hunter who seemed to be agitated from the way his face looked. The information seemed to have settled fully into Dean's brain because he spoke next, though a little more belligerently.

"Wait a minute. Cas, you're telling us that you gave some creepy night stalker that came and offed all of us the souls from purgatory? And that he rewired our brains so we could all get screwed quietly without ever knowing unless you told us? Please, Cas, tell me you're joking!" Dean's voice had taken a tinnier pitch than Castiel has previously believed possible as his friend attempted to reason it out. Sam remained silent throughout it all, until now. Apparently no one had noticed the younger Winchester dig his phone out.

"He's telling the truth Dean…at least about Oblivion existing. I found a website from my phone with some of the oldest lore I've ever seen. I haven't read half of these legends but there is one about…here it is. 'Abaddon and Acheron: Oblivion and God…In the Beginning'. It says that:

'In the beginning there was nothing. No light and no darkness. As the Guardian looked upon the Nothing, she desired a purpose. So the Guardian of the Worlds and Between planted two seeds. One of the seeds sprouted and the world around it was brightened and became the Realm of Light. She failed to see that the other seed had a rotten core until, as it sprouted, the world around it rotted. As the darkness there grew and ate at the edge of the Light, the Guardian saw this and sealed the two apart with another world. She called this world Purgatory, the middle ground.

The seed of Light was named Acheron and grew to be known in the future as God to the world he and his brother would create. The seed of Darkness was named Abaddon and grew to be known as Oblivion, the darkest and worst parts of the new human world being attributed to him. Acheron gave his human creations souls and taught them compassion. Abaddon, however, gave the humans greed and hatred and taught them pain and murder. As time passed outside of the mortal coil, Abaddon began to despise all things associated with light and sought to destroy it all. The Guardian, upon seeing this, sealed the Darkness of Oblivion away into Purgatory and placed boundary worlds between each Realm to shield the human world of Mortalis from further harm. Between Mortalis and Light, she placed Heaven, and between Mortalis and Darkness, she placed Hell. The two act as seals upon the resting place of Oblivion. Should Hell be breached from within and Heaven be corrupted in any way, the release of Oblivion will soon follow by the hands of Greed disguised as good will.'"

Sam's voice went quiet and all eyes fell on Castiel. The angel shifted uncomfortably under their gazes and his eyes fell to look upon his own shoes. It was his fault…completely. Had he listened to Dean, this would never have happened. His shame was broken by Dean's quiet voice.

"We'll help you Cas. Oblivion sounds bad enough that we can't let him do whatever the hell he feels like doing. There's gotta be a way to put him back where he crawled out of…"

Dean looked between Sam and Bobby as if hoping for an answer to all of Castiel's problems. The elder of the two shook his graying head slightly and sighed before wheeling around to the books behind his desk. Sam joined him in researching not too long after and Castiel looked at all three hunters, glad to have them all breathing. He should have come to them for help with Raphael.


	3. Death Interferes

The brothers leaned back simultaneously, startling Castiel out of his guilt induced reverie. Green eyes met blue as Dean shook his head before tilting his head back and rubbing his face in irritation. This was to be expected…finding lore on things obviously older than angels and man combined must be both trying and aggravating in principle. Sam was still buried to his cerebrum in ancient languages long since dead to the world of men and Bobby had since left to wheel himself to the liquor cabinet to staunch his growing frustration. Castiel could hear the glass and bottle clinking together in the room behind him as a light ting in his ears. Dean's exasperation, however, was a far more tangible distraction to the angels thoughts as the elder Winchester groaned and cursed repeatedly. Finally Castiel had had just about enough.

"Would like my help Dean?" Castiel's voice pierced something a little too close to his friend's ego because the oldest Winchester growled a curse before getting up from his chair and storming out the ancient screen door, slamming it behind him. Though the slam resembled more of a parody of the word to the angel's ears and that alone made the action a bit more comedic than was its intended purpose.

"Don't worry about him, Cas. He's just being pissy since we haven't found anything to do with Oblivion in four hours of research." Sam paused briefly and, for just a split second, Castiel could see the growing panic and frustration behind his hazel eyes. "To be honest, Cas, it's starting to get me too. If we can't find anything…"

Sam's thought was cut short by a smooth, foreign accent.

"Perhaps, you are looking for the wrong things…"

Death stood in the center of the study, immaculate suit tidy as usual and his face as stoic looking as ever. Sam stiffened, his jaw hanging a little lower than it had been when he was speaking. Bobby came into the room bearing a look of disbelief that mirrored Dean's as he stood next to his mentor. Castiel, for some reason, wasn't surprised. Maybe it was the run in with Oblivion that had clouded his ability to be astonished or shocked. The archangel supposed it didn't matter anyway as the horseman continued in his smooth baritone.

"You've been looking for Oblivion, his cage, and his true name, Abaddon. Have you bothered to check about this Guardian woman? After all, she did put him there." With that said, the horseman's face never twitched. Instead, he simply vanished from mortal sight. Castiel continued to stare at Death, wondering why he was helping in this manner until he spoke to him directly.

"Castiel, I know it was you who set him free. Accident or not, Oblivion can't be allowed to roam free. He will tear this world, this reality, apart and enjoy tasting the blood of all beings that stand in his way. The reason I came here is to ensure his re-imprisonment. I do have a job to do after all. And I must admit that Dean Winchester has a bigger role to play here than you can possibly understand."

Castiel opened his mouth to speak but, before he could make a sound, the horseman was gone with no trace of him ever having been there at all. The angel tried to decipher the meaning of those words that had been meant for him alone. And why speak to him directly? What role did he mean? These questions and more ran through Castiel's mind repeatedly, echoing about until he could hear nor perceive anything else around him.

"CAS!"

Dean's voice shattered Castiel's train of thought and grounded him back in the conversation again. All eyes were on him and the angel shifted uncomfortably in his spot on the old couch.

"Dude, are you spacing out over there or what? Sam found something on the Guardian that he thinks you should hear."

Castiel's eyes snapped to where Sam was sitting at the desk with Bobby. The younger Winchester shot him a concerned look before speaking.

"Ok, it says here that the Guardian…the texts refer to her as Altara…decided to 'live amongst the denizens of Mortalis after the Darkness was sealed'. So that means she is still here."

Sam looked pointedly at Bobby, who sat beside him, just as the elder hunter began to read from another book.

"It says that 'Altara can be found in places where history is worshipped and can be identified by the smell of Orchids'. Am I the only one here who knows where history is 'worshipped'."

The brothers locked eyes with one another before smiling, hope filling their eyes, before simultaneously answering.

"Museums"

Bobby looked at Castiel and then the brothers before speaking again.

"The best museum I can think of that has ancient history from the world is the British Museum in London."

The brothers looked at each other and then smiled at their friend. Castiel sighed before laying a finger on their heads to begin their flight to London. Dean smiled mischievously and Sam elbowed him before reprimanding his brother for something Castiel couldn't quite hear or understand. The younger Winchester spoke excitedly to his two companions.

"Looks like we're off to London!"


End file.
